The Minor Conjunction
by The What-If Writer
Summary: An alternate time, a different prophecy. The stars align, a minor conjuncture occurs, and two new skeksis are born, and their mere presence threatens the elder's rien. A series of one-shots.
1. Chapter 1

_Originally_ _posted on DA, These were written as disjointed short stories, in nonlinear order. Here I've placed them chronologically._

* * *

A Mediocre Conjunction

The crack thundered through the castle. The lightning storm outside had raged all night, as it had done for thousands of years. But this particular clash was different. It made the very stone in which the castle was encased tremble, the floors vibrate, and it woke ever resident within, from the frailest podling slave, to the Skeksis Emperor himself.

After years of rather boring peace, sudden scares had become farfetched fiction to the Skeksis. Nothing had harmed them; nothing had attacked them, for decades. So the jolt that ran through their bodies when the noise woke them from their sleep almost killed them.

Silence sang through the castle next. The split world held its breath. SkekSil, the Chamberlain, had frozen, a whimper trapped in his throat as he lay beneath shabby blankets, eyes wide and blurred. SkekUng the General reacted very different; he let out an near intelligible bellow somewhere else in the castle – something along the lines of 'who made that noise' and promising to end the cause. SkekEkt and SkekAyuk were, of course, screaming. Just a little. All other parties were mostly too bemused and startled to make any noise.

But something was wrong. Yes, they all felt it.

That didn't stop them taking the time to dress and adorn themselves. Whatever it was could wait. The Garthim hadn't come to alert them, so the danger couldn't have been too close. In a frantic shuffle, they all made their way to the Crystal Chamber from their respective quarters.

SkekUng found himself moving into the same hallway as SkekTek, who was hobbling along slower than usual. His more mutilated body meant that getting up took longer. He hadn't had time. The General bore a snarl his way, needing to take out his frustration on _something._ SkekTek huffed, rather violently, but neither uttered a word. They moved along, and SkekZok, appearing by all standards as someone who hadn't been startled awake at all, no sir, joined their walk.

Then, the Crystal sang. The noise, like a soft screech, called to them through the castle. SkekZok's head lifted. SkekTek and SkekUng exchanged an open-jaw gawk.

"The Crystal –"

SkekSil, who had been smoothing out his sleeve per request of the insightful SkekEkt, pivoted his elongated head towards the noise. He, the latter and SkekAyuk had met up on their way to the chamber, too. SkekAyuk lifted his shoulders in a bewildered shrug, and they quickened their pace the best they could.

But neither group made it there first. The other six, including the Emperor himself, had made it there before them, and where hovering in the tunnels and staring at something near the shaft below the Crystal.

The purple gem gleamed, quietly, in the stale air and heat. SkekUng pushed his way through, SkekSil and SkekEkt peered around SkekAyok's bulky frame.

All beaks parted, and a wave of shock swept through the twelve.

A figure was lying on the stone floor, face down, just barely getting to their knees. Another lay on its back, shivering. A third on its side, curled into a trembling ball. A fourth, furthest away and blocked by the crystal, already on its feet.

The Skeksis watched, almost horrified, as the first figure they'd seen drew itself up. It stood, groggy and clumsy, and lifted its arms. Four of them, two smaller than the other pair. Green-blue body, silvery beak, lean, thin and moving as smoothly as a stream.

Another skeksis stood before them, or at least, the image of what they'd been upon their emersion. On the cusp of adulthood. The youth blinked, eyes unfocused, and then suddenly his eyelids snapped open. His whole body jarred like he'd been slapped awake.

"Wha...?"

Twelve faces stared back at him, alarmed. The alarm shifted, slowly, and darkened into something else.

The youth looked down at himself, his feet, his hands, his body. His hands clamped against his cheeks in alarm; the other pair rising in fright. "...!" A muffled gasp escaped him.

A soft cream hand reached out and seized a wrist. An UrRu, tall and lean and strong, had dragged itself to his side, slow shock melting onto his face. His hair was long and curled at the tips, just like his own straggly locks.

Pale eyes met his own, and the UrRu murmured something, sounding...lost.

The Crystal sang once more. It broke the spell, shattered the shock. The boy slammed all four hands over his ears, cringing and ducking away from the noise. The other two had gotten to their feet. But the twelve originals had no time to get a good look at them.

The first UrRu moved, pulling at his counterpart as a clash of lightning crept through the hallways. The Skeksis moved towards them in a wave, bewildered but angry murmurs ascending into yells and shouts.

The youth stumbled after the UrRu, allowing himself to be led away. The other two had already fled into the empty halls. One of them sped ahead, the other stumbled, hands pawing at the floor as if he were –

"Stop them!"

"GARTHIM!"

A click. A scurry. Something big, black, and glazed in the dim purple light blocked their way. The Crystal shrieked, it didn't sing, the noise was horrible and everyone present cringed and ducked. The Garthim reached, and in a flurry of black the Skeksis youth felt his counterpart's grip tear away. One moment he was there, then he'd been knocked away.

Where was he?

 _Where am..._

A shriek rippled from the hall where the other two had already fled. The other young Skeksis. He was screaming. His counterpart lay on his knees, hands clutching the ground, pupil-less eyes watching nothing. His head panned across the chamber.

"How can this be?" A crackly voice chimed, loud and affronted.

"How did they find us?"

"They cannot have contact – how can it have happened again?"

His legs gave out. Legs. Arms. He knew these words but he didn't know anything else.

Then, instinct, as confused and angry as all the rest, took over. With a hiss, he lunged at the Garthim. He was battered away.

Pain. Pain was new. He wasn't ready for it. A unison of growls and odd raspy noises came next, a response to his escapade. He lay on the floor, shivering, as his mind tried to grasp what was happening. He could sense others, other beings, coming closer.

Then, he felt something. Warm and shaky, a hand touching his face. He opened his eyes. The other skeksis youth – his counterpart – lay beside him, blank eyes wide and brow furrowing.

"You..." A voice, low and soft, murmured.

The young skeksis tilted its head.

"...You?"

He lifted his hand. The other followed. Their fingers bobbed together, curious. The other couldn't see. He was blind. The word echoed through the blue-green one's mind, familiar, as if it had already known.

 _I know you, it said. You aren't me, but part of me knew the full you._

Something cold, crooked and sharp seized his shoulder. Towering over them, shrouded in darkness, were others. He saw beaks, he saw a flurry of magnificent but decaying clothing, and he heard a bombardment of hisses and snarls. Horror ran through his skin, making it crawl. The UrRu lifted his head, listening to the awful noises.

Another hand gripped his arm and he was hoisted up. A yelp, frightened, tore from his beak. He struggle but could get free. Whatever motive, whatever intention – perhaps the original Skeksis themselves didn't know exactly – wasn't good. Loathing had swarmed over intelligent thought. Memories they didn't want.

They wanted it to end, and to pretend it hadn't happened.

Miles away, the old mystics were waking up, and sensing the change. They could feel it.

The youth would have probably died, and maybe the elders would regret it – perhaps they'd lament that there could have been opportunity, a change in the way of things. But that wouldn't happen.

The UrRu, heavy brow wrinkling, stood up to his full height, a diamond among coal, and lunged. His longer arms wrapped around the other youth and with a powerful –and unexpected – yank, he'd snatched him away from the furious grasp of the elders.

SkekUng tumbled back, caught off guard and thus thrown off balance. He collided terribly with SkekZok and the Emperor – SkekSil ducked away, stooping behind the muddle, eyes fixed on the pair.

The UrRu, clearly sightless but moving quickly, dashed between SkekOk and SkekShod. His tail struck against the former and sent him sprawling, too.

He was practically carrying the young Skeksis, though both could barely walk let alone carry one another. Nevertheless, they shuffled into the dark hall and vanished from sight.

SkekSil's eyes narrowed.

"Mmm- _mmm_ -mmm..."


	2. Chapter 2

Not a Bad Idea At All

A quiet, airy hum was stemming through the castle calls, courtesy of the Crystal Shaft and the boiling liquid festering beneath. Like none-pulsing heartbeat, it vibrating through the stone as the two drew nearer and nearer to the Crystal Chamber. The higher halls broke off into overhanging ledges, but the two daren't venture out into such an open place, not yet. They ducked by the archway, hidden behind the stone. One pressed their back against the rock, the other huddled by their knee, clutching the back of their robe like a leash.

Then, slowly, a silvery beak poked around the arch. Steam was rising up from the shaft, a foul smell like surfer. Then, slowly, a shadow draped itself across the wall below, and he ducked back, kneeling down as far as his legs would allow in one swift motion. He lifted his finger, trembling, to his beak, though his companion couldn't possibly see it. "Sh..."

The Ur-Ru nodded, vaguely, as he peered around the stone again. Below, two of...them...had wandered into the Chamber, side by side. Not the jumpy, noisy two that chattered and bubbled with laughter, but a small one barely bigger than himself with funny glass circles on his face. And the other, taller, with a straight back, so straight it looked painful.

The tall one, with a magnificent feather sporting from the back of his collar, eyed the Crystal as he drew past. The youth slipped back again, flattening himself against the wall and pulling his knees up t his chest. The UrRu mumbled something to himself, too quietly enough to be heard.

"I have checked the dates, all the recordings. Nothing about the stars signalled any of this." A shrill voice cut through the air. The youth peeked back around the arch, past the ledge, at the two below. They'd stopped just outside the chamber below, venturing into the hall opposite.

"Nothing?" A sharp, cold voice returned, rather darkly.

"No." The scroll keep adjusted one of his many spectacles, "Perhaps the scientist will have a better theory about the division of the body...my accounts lack in that department..."

His voice trailed away as they moved on. The two huddled youths listened, until the silence returned. Then, patting his companions shoulder, the young skeksis took the lead, tip-toeing along as the UrRu followed, holding onto the back of his robe.

Onto the ledge. Hmm. Bit high. With wobbling legs, and ducking low so his hands could leap out to steady him if he fell, he came to the edge of the overhang and peered at the Crystal.

He tugged his companion there, too, gently, and guided his arm out to it. But they couldn't reach. It had been his idea to come find it.

" _I HATE YOUR WHIMPER."_

They almost jumped out of their skins, even the UrRu. The two dove back, squashing themselves down on the overhanging ledge so that they felt more like throw rugs than people, and they heard three sets of shuffling feet break into the chamber below;

"Hmm!"

"If I have to listen to you two bicker all the way to the Dinner Hall," A throaty voice, on the verge of breaking like someone recovering from a back windpipe infection, cut in, "I will toss one of you into the shaft."

There was a distinctive shovel as one of the three moved further away from said shaft. A loud snort came next, as the trio passed directly _beneath them_. The young skeksis's chest began rising and falling rapidly, his breath tightening. The UrRu's hand found his and held it tight.

"Hmph! As if you could aim right with one eye!"

A snarl. A hiss. A growl. The two tensed, waiting for them to pass. But they'd stopped, rounding on each other, threateningly - as the third with the mewling voice watched with a smug chortle. The youth tried to focus on something; the warmth of the UrRu's hand, the stone against his stomach, the hum of the Crystal Shaft, but not his hammering heart beat.

Then, in inhaling breath, and a huff.

One of the growling pair and continued on, "Bah! I don't have time for you, _General_." His voice crackled, becoming slightly deeper once the air broke through his throat at a certain octave. The change was startling.

"MmmMMMmmm..."

The youth was certain, as a chill crawled up his spine, that he wouldn't forget that whimper anytime soon.

He raised his head, just a little, so did his companion, as the three figures disappeared into the same hallway the other two had gone.

"...They go..." The other murmured, hearing them depart the same way, too. The youth got up on one knee, back arched, peering at the Crystal.

He knew that word. It popped into his head whenever he looked at it. It was very shiny, too, and with all the bubbling heat beneath it, he wondered if it was warm. He couldn't touch it.

He could jump, a funny thought in his brain suggested, but with a quick glance down at the abyss beneath it, he decided that no, that wasn't a good idea...

"We go..." He turned his head and let out a small squawk. His companion was, well, climbing down. To the chamber below, having shuffled back along to the wall of the cavern to begin his dissent. Bewildered, but terrified of the tiny distance between them already, the young skeksis scampered after him, hopping down in a wobbly kind of scramble.

His companion slowly unlatched himself from the wall and began moving towards the direction he'd heard all the shuffling feet, one hand automatically reaching out to find his. They clung, arm in arm, and tip-toed with ducked heads to the hallway.

Halls were always dark, chambers more lit. Outside, the crackling sound waited like a beast for its prey. The youth's breath quickened, but the UrRu simply tugged him along, firmly but gently.

They squashed themselves against a wall, again, quickly, as some tiny beings ambled past in a slow, vacant line. Hooded, with funny, mushy faces...

Grimacing, the skeksis youth let his companion lead the way until –

A grunt.

They dove into another hall, curling against the wall as yet another figure strode by, step, plod, step – his back was burdened by a strange headdress, like a spider's web, strings wrung between off prongs, a cloth wrapped around his head.

He hadn't seen them. Alone, he continued forward, scowling and muttering irritably to himself. The two waited until he was long gone...before the UrRu began leading them after him. The other youth cringed, stopping and trying to pull him back, but his companion was instant.

Quivering more than slightly, he allowed himself to be pulled along. He focused on his steps, one after the other, his legs felt unsteady. They shadowed along the wall, hands raised to guide their way. Then, seeing a blur of light, and pushed his companion down to crouch by the wall again. Another chamber entrance broke out a few yards ahead, bathing the hall in an unusual bright light.

"Aaah, _land strider pie_ –"

" _I_ requested that –"

"Bah! Watch your arm, you whimpering wart!"

" _Mmmhmm_ , by all means, General –"

Oh no, this was bad, they'd done the opposite of what they'd intended. But then again, he got the feeling that the UrRu had planned this, what with his curious lifting brow and tilting head. The youth's chest heaved in a spasm-like breath, but then he inhaled something –

The smell –

Words, words he knew but didn't understand, leapt into his head. Like hammering hail. _Spice. Salt. Food. Wine._

He sniffed, gently, and the aroma almost knocked him over. Curious, despite his hammering pulse, the scrawny skeksis drew closer to the open arch...and peered in; his face just an inch around the rock.

The sight he saw wasn't exactly a pleasant one. The table was finally furbished, the food looked ravishingly well prepared – but the dozen sitting in a slightly curving line of chairs made it all very unworthy of the term. He grimaced. They were tearing and dribbling, snapping at meat like animals, the sound of ripping meat would make any decent creature's skin crawl. And, just to make it all the more boggling, now and again – after one of them had viciously stuffed a pastry between their teeth – they'd dab their beaks daintily with a napkin.

One of them reached for a pepper grinder, eyes narrowed like he was hanging a hook to catch a fish. Another, the one with the glinting false eye and the tubes in his arm - caught his wrist, "Ha!" He snatched the pepper away for himself, leaving the other – the one with the specs – to sneer at him.

The big one with the booming voice seemed to be doing his best to 'accidently' elbow the mewling one in the head.

"Ahem."

The tall one, the one with the cold, pale eyes and the sharp voice, was speaking. Several of the beings closest to him turned their heads, "It appears to me that the four younglings." He bit off the end of his meat slice with a deliberate snap, "Have escaped the castle."

The young skeksis felt a terrible thrill in his heart.

"The garthim would have found those scrawny whelps if they went anywhere near the castle foundation!" The loud one blasted back, his jaw half-tangled with some kind of pastry.

The skeksis in the centre brought his sceptre down with a loud and sharp _clunk,_ ending the argument in its waking moments. The others stiffened, mouths still full, the air going silent. The youth frowned, slowly, interested. That one, the oldest looking one with the pretty stick. Was he...?

"I will not have jabbering while I enjoy my meal." He hissed, sourly, dangerously quiet. "Ritual Master, General, you will both attend to this matter _afterwards."_

The Ritual Master bowed his head, once, while the Garthim Master growled, but relented, instead focusing his frustration on a bone nearby. He snapped it in two, and with the noise the others resumed their dinners as well.

Castle, the youth's mind murmured. Get out of the castle. But those things – black things, big, clinking, sore when the hit. They would be there.

"They must have _done_ something to trigger the conjunction." The glass-eyed on was sneering, slowly, eyeing the food at the end of his fork, "Such a minor settling of stars _couldn't_ have split them on their own."

"There was only two." The whimpering one chimed from nearby, dabbing his cheek with a napkin, "Hmmm...Perhaps it was easy for the suns to split them apart."

A wave of unease made the young skeksis shudder. He didn't under – no, wait, something – something just below the skin, his thoughts wouldn't...wouldn't...

It was strange, like he was forgetting something. A part of him knew what they meant, what they spoke of, but the explanation trying to build itself in his mind kept falling short, like roots spreading only to stop...incomplete. Missing...bits...

He pressed his palms against his eyes.

A hand gripped his wrist, strong. He pulled his fingers away and saw his UrRu companion was grimacing, too, and shaking his head. Pulling at him. Time to go. He'd apparently decided they'd heard enough.

Feeling nauseous, but terribly relieved, he was about to follow when another voice started muttering –

"They could be useful, sire;" The class-eyed one was murmuring, "Such raw and vital essence..."

" _I_ will decide, soon enough..."

Despite himself, he risked another peek around the arch, brow furrowing in uneasy interest. Just then, a small...mushy face wandered past them, completely ignoring the two huddling outside the dining chamber, carrying a bowl filled with funny black fluffy things. Then another came down the hall, balancing a plate on his head covered in small, round pieces of cake.

The UrRu silent plucked one off the plate, soundlessly. The little creature didn't even notice it was gone. The young skeksis blinked, before stifling a confused giggle and plucking one of his own.

"Finally, desert!" A shrill voice sounded from within.

He tried to risk another look, curious despite himself, but then he saw his companion had dropped the last half of his cake. "..."

There was a clang from inside the dining chamber, and high-pitched squiggling noises and several yelps.

The young skeksis broke off half of his cake and placed it in his companion's hands –

"Who said _you_ could get more...?!"

He peered around again, frowning now. The frown dissolved into alarm when he saw the scene. A mushy creature was lying face-down on the floor, the plate it was carrying sitting on the edge of the table. He stared at it, confused. The bulky one with the round beak, who had been with the screechy one before, was glaring at it from the edge of the table. Like it was being annoying by lying there.

The loud one, big and dark and scowling, turned his head and gave a gruff noise of impatience.

His eyes shifted at the wrong moment. They landed on the youth, just barely visible at the doorway's corner, and his eyes bulged.

 _"RARH!"_

The shapeless bark of fury alerted all present, loud, sharp, and all heads turned. The young skeksis' heart almost stopped and his eyes widened in horror.

"The whelp!" The spectacled one shrieked.

Their faces were horrible, bore in violent snarls, teeth barred and hissing, hands raising even from meters away with a wish to _claw_.

He sprang off the balls of his feet, seizing his companion clumsily about the arm and sprinting down the hall.

Furious yelps and yells followed him like an entourage. Yipping, tearing at the air, as vicious as feral dogs. He quickened his pace, down the dark hall, turn the corner, breath hitching in quivering lungs. Their footsteps echoed forward with a ring.

Inside the chamber, the elders had leapt to their feet, chalices and plates toppling over in their haste. SkeUng had tossed the empty water bowl at the doorway, but missed by a mile. It hit the stone floor with an ear-splitting crash.

"Oh..." The UrRu murmured, as his legs sped along rather impressively despite his stooped posture. "That sounded dangerous..."

His companion made a shrill noise, like he'd gagging on his own breath, before they turned the corner and dove back into darkness.

"Find that runt – _NOW!"_


	3. Chapter 3

The chamber was lit, rather serenely, by dozens of candles, more of which were being igniting at that moment. Outside, the rain was thick and the clouds were thicker still, the lightning had subsided during the week, but the storm remained behind the shroud of vapour. The scroll master's dwellings housed tables upon tables; circular and cavern-like, like the inside of a fruit the recesses were framed by curving arches in the walls. Adjusting one pair of the many specs sat on his beak, he blew out the match once the last candle was alight. He preferred working at night.

Picking up his quill, he resumed his writing, pausing ever now and then to dip the nib into a pot of ink. For a long while, he repeated this action, write, dip, scribble. The sound was calming, the candles rippling uneasily in the stale air.

 _Clunk._

His hand paused, glaring at the page until his eyes blurred. He then peered about, indignant, though his head didn't turn. His beak was so close to the page during writing that he could've been stuck on it. "..."

With a small huff, he went back to his work.

They'd all be on edge since the...incident with the new skeksis and UrRu. Two of them, they were certain of; the teal boy and the blind one. But the other two had vanished from the castle. Thus they had no answers...

His thoughts trailed away from that regrettable night and back to his scrolls.

Then, again. A clunk. He paused, ink dripping off the end of his quill. He turned his long head, panning it along his dwelling. He couldn't see anything, and yet –

He placed the quill back into the ink bottle and stood up, slowly making his way into the centre of the chamber. The candles swayed gently as he passed by. There weren't many hiding places in here, anything scuttling about would be seen easily. If one of SkekTek's animals had escaped again –

 _Rattle._

He stiffened.

Theoretically, he could call for the garthim. He could – leave this room, slowly and quietly. He could stand his ground and toss it out himself.

Or he could just investigate and assure himself that it was nothing. That sounded rather insane, so he simply stood there, for a moment, eyeing the place. Then, one of the tables chattered, like it had been struck. The various ink bottles trembled like they'd been brushed by a gust of air. The skeksis stared, eyes wide, then scowled. If this was some fool's trick, aiming to make a jester out of him, they'd better think again –

He drew close, curious despite himself, though his annoyance had clouded any apprehension he had. He clutched the sheet strung over the counter-top and pulled it back –

 ** _"Hhhssssss!"_**

SkeOk recoiled like he'd been burnt.

There, huddled between two neighbouring tables against the wall, shrouded in the dark the candle-light couldn't reach, was –

The skeksis youth. _But not the right one._

He'd seen the other one, teal feathers, small, fragile, as weak as a babe, this one was curled up, but it was taller, bigger, in the dark he saw a pair of deep, blurry brown eyes and white teeth bore in a snarl. Growling.

It leaped. SkekOk threw himself back as its legs hit the table-top, knocking them over, toppling dozens of quills, scrolls and bottles of ink that shattered loudly against the floor. It landed on all fours, crouching like an otter, skidding across the ink-laced stone before kicking off into the hall with a throaty, distorted yowl.

It was gone in a blur of cream, gold and bronze, disappearing into the dark hallway. The scroll keeper lay against one of the few still-standing tables, a hand over his chest, heart hammering hard enough against his feeble ribs to break the bone. One of his pairs of spectacles had slipped off balance.

"...Wh-wh...?"


End file.
